


Tummy Aches and Cuddles

by orphan_account



Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: Cuddling & Snuggling, Fluff, M/M, Tummy Ache
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-02-17
Updated: 2013-02-17
Packaged: 2017-11-29 15:47:16
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 555
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/688685
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Sherlock comes home to find John with a tummy ache.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Tummy Aches and Cuddles

**Author's Note:**

> This was written for a prompt on the BBC Sherlock Kink Meme. You can find it here: 
> 
> http://sherlockbbc-fic.livejournal.com/21231.html?thread=125059055#t125059055
> 
> All mistakes are my own. If you find anything unusual or that needs fixing, please tell me. Concrit is always welcome! xx

Sherlock burst into the flat, whipped his coat and scarf off, flung them in a heap on the floor, and bustled into the kitchen, a small box in his hand.

He opened up the refrigerator and placed the box of human ears on top of the jar of tongues and hummed delightedly. He just had to wait for them to decrease in temperature before he proceeded on to his next exciting experiment.

“John,” he called, noting the disastrous state of the kitchen. Mugs of half-drunk tea were sitting around, cluttering up the counter top and there was a small pile of various medications by the sink ranging from ibuprofen to antacids. Sherlock picked up the empty Pepto-Bismol container and eyed the remnants of the sticky, pink substance warily.

He glanced towards the living room at the sound of a whimper not unlike a puppy’s, and strode towards the doorway to see John lying on his side, clutching his abdomen in anguish.

“John?” Sherlock asked hesitantly, noting the state of undress his blogger was in. He was only wearing a pair of ratty pajama bottoms and a white vest, forgoing any sort of clothing that might bring him warmth in the drafty flat.

“I’ve got a bloody stomach ache,” John whined. John was never really inclined to complain, let alone whine—usually that was Sherlock’s department—but whine he did. The high-pitched sounds emitting from his throat were admittedly pathetic, but also adorable in a sad sort of way.

Sherlock stood in the doorway and looked about the living area helplessly, not sure what to do. Suddenly, a memory struck him.

_A short, lanky five-year-old with a mop of messy, black curls was lying on his mother as she rubbed his tummy and whispered soothing words in his ear._

_“It hurts,” the child whimpered, curling in on himself a bit more._

_“Shh, it’s okay, Sherlock—it’s just a tummy ache. Just relax and let Mummy cuddle you, love,” his mother cooed, brushing back the erratic curls from his forehead. He sighed and gave in to his mother’s wishes and within minutes, he dozed off into a fitful slumber._

Carefully, Sherlock strode over to the couch and leaned down, observing John’s face scrunched up in pain.

“Ugh, go awaaaay,” John whined, burying his face in the cool leather of the couch.

“Budge over, John,” Sherlock said, keeping his voice calm and calculated.

“Whyyyy?” John replied into the cushions.

“I’m going to rub your tummy,” he replied, nudging John’s legs with his knee. John looked up at him, startled. Within seconds, his face crumpled as the pain overrode his shock and he moved forward a bit, allowing Sherlock to lie down behind him on the couch.

After a bit of adjusting, Sherlock placed his arm around John’s front and slid his other arm under his blogger’s head to provide more cushioning as he began to rub John’s abdomen.

John sighed and burrowed his face into Sherlock’s arm. Sherlock pulled John’s back flush against his front and hummed in contentment.

Sherlock nuzzled his face into John’s neck and murmured soothing words into his dear doctor’s ear, his warm breath ghosting over John’s flushed skin, soothing him.

“Thanks, Sherlock,” John mumbled into the sleeve of his aubergine shirt.

“You’re welcome, John,” Sherlock replied, placing a soft kiss to John’s neck.


End file.
